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Christmas fic exchange.
worffan101
Member Posts: 9,518 Arc User
Hey everyone! Since my "write stuff for other people for my birthday" thing went so well, I've decided to do it again.
Rules are as follows:
1. Request a prompt below and I'll write a story for you based on it. Requesting specific characters is fine, too.
2. For each request I will request one story from the person making the request/giving the prompt in exchange. I'll try to keep 'em light prompts that won't give anyone headaches.
3. No requests for character death fics will be accepted, nor will I ask for character death stories.
4. Due to personal reasons I will not portray cults (Scientology, Heaven's Gate, et cetera), dictatorships, or ISIS in any form of positive light.
5. Special exception to rule 3: Three is not included in rule 3. And yes, that was an intentional pun.
I will only accept and make requests until December 20th, and I'm probably going to be busy with finals until around then, so most of my work should be in that span.
Happy holidays!
Rules are as follows:
1. Request a prompt below and I'll write a story for you based on it. Requesting specific characters is fine, too.
2. For each request I will request one story from the person making the request/giving the prompt in exchange. I'll try to keep 'em light prompts that won't give anyone headaches.
3. No requests for character death fics will be accepted, nor will I ask for character death stories.
4. Due to personal reasons I will not portray cults (Scientology, Heaven's Gate, et cetera), dictatorships, or ISIS in any form of positive light.
5. Special exception to rule 3: Three is not included in rule 3. And yes, that was an intentional pun.
I will only accept and make requests until December 20th, and I'm probably going to be busy with finals until around then, so most of my work should be in that span.
Happy holidays!
Post edited by Unknown User on
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Comments
Time for myself? What is this thing of which you speak?
oh sorry, wrong dialect.
yooo Worffan, duuude. Whazzzzz uuuup?
Ah think ya should sleep over some days to be better than da rest of da folks outta there.
Dontcha think?
Ugh?
Guh.
Worffan hunt frat boys! Worffan jump up and down and make outdated, stereotypical caveman grunting yells at frat boys!
Ach a caveman! *Begins shooting at worffan*
*throws ridiculously crude spears with terrible aim, despite the fact that real hunter-gatherers could not possibly survive with hunting "skills" like that*
But don't think for a minute I will care alone for Schmoopie when you are dead because of stress, exhausting or the other things..
:mad:
I'd like to see more about Omet'iklan, actually. A piece about how he came to idolize Odo, or maybe showing him briefly going back to the Dominion and having an ideological dispute with his Jem'Hadar, might be interesting. I just want an excuse for you to write from the Jem'Hadar/Dominion perspective, as you do it so well.
Geez...
But don't keep me up tonight, please; I know your...hormones/manliness...are high on weekends but can we wait until tomorrow? Please?
Alright, I can do something with Omek; his religious background is basically "was hatched, saw Odo, decided Odo was God, helped a few dozen other Jem'Hadar experiments build a religion around Odo, finally made Odo lose his head with an absurdly flowery hymn of praise, got sent to the Alpha quadrant by his incandescent deity", but I can definitely explore his beliefs a little more...
How about Omek meeting a Klingon and discussing stuff? Maybe there's an honor duel for some reason, maybe an exhibition match, and Omek and his opponent discuss religion while they fight; starting with insults, perhaps, but then moving into analysis and even respect?
Do you like that idea?
Also, my request for you is: "Trouble in Paradise" with the characters of your choice. If you don't think you can do that one, I can find another prompt.
THe honour duel idea sounds interesting, especially since it would be interesting to bit two different warrior cultures and fighting styles against each other.
Awesome, I'll get on it as soon as I can (hopefully in a week but we'll see).
for god's sake, get some sleep. I am usually the one doing the hormon filled filthy jokes and you are Martha Stewart's son.
Yes, dear...
Oh, and it's YOUR turn to do Schmoopie's litter box tomorrow! AHAHAHAHAHAAHAHHAAAHAAAAA!!!!!
Cast (in order of appearance):
Riov D'trel: Linda Hamilton circa Terminator 2.
First Omek'ti'kallan: Chiwetel Ejiofor.
K'rev, son of Korax: Idris Elba.
Khitomer. Hour the seventeenth, fifth day, month of mighty Sisko, tenth year of the Glory of Odo'Ital.
QI'tomer. 1447 Qo'noS central time, fifth day, eighth month of the Fortieth Year of the Age of the Risen Emperor.
"First," said Commander D'trel, beckoning to her Jem'Hadar ih'hwi'saehne as she strode into her ready room. "We've got a little problem that I need your help with."
"Sir?" asked First Omek'ti'kallan as he saluted. "Do you need me to correct the Vulcan T'nae for her blasphemy against the Laws of Odo'Ital?"
"As much as I'd like to rearrange that sanctimonious Yyaio's face, no. Councilman Woldan saw you acting as part of my entourage, and said that he wants to see you fight one of his warriors in exchange for giving us an uncontested territorial claim on Beta Thoridar. Are you up for it?"
"I am always ready for battle," said Omek'ti'kallan proudly. "Glorious Odo'Ital has spoken highly of his glorious Klingon comrade Worf; I would be honored to participate in a duel against a Klingon."
"Excellent," said the Rihanha. "The match is in one hour. Woldan seems sharp, be ready to fight one of his best warriors."
***
"Remember," said D'trel, who was refereeing the match alongside a grizzled Dahar master. "This is a nonlethal duel. Medics are on hand to patch up injuries, first blood wins."
"Agreed," rumbled First Omek'ti'kallan with a polite nod to the Klingon, reciting the Laws of Odo'Ital in his head. "Fight well, K'rev, son of Korax. Victory is life!"
"I agree to these terms," growled the young Klingon man, saluting Omek with a feral grin. "Fight well, Jem'Hadar! Heghlu'meH QaQ jajvam!"
"Begin!" barked D'trel, stepping out of the ring.
K'rev was young, but not foolish, Omek noted. He was bold, perhaps, trying a stereotypical Klingon howling charge as his first move, but his speed and strength combined with the carefully balanced hold of his bat'leth spoke to his competence as a warrior.
Omek blocked with his kar'takin, stepping sideways smoothly and going for K'rev's back with the butt of the staff, but K'rev countered swiftly, falling into a more cautious fighting stance with a gleeful snarl.
"You fight well! If the green-bloods you fight beside are even half so skilled, this alliance will truly bring glory to the Empire!"
Omek made a sudden lunge, then reversed against K'rev's block, but the Klingon was just as fast, and their weapons met with a clang of metal. The onlookers cheered
"You fight like a Jem'Hadar," rumbled Omek appreciatively, blocking an overhead chop from K'rev with the staff of his kar'takin. "This match brings honor to Odo'Ital, by allowing one of His crreations--" he leaned sideways, striking for K'rev's leg, but was blocked deftly "--to prove himself against so fine a warrior."
"A good fight!" snarled K'rev, chopping for the Jem'Hadar's leg; Omek blocked and tried a disarm but K'rev broke the twist. "But I shall be victorious, for no servant of mere gods can defeat a Klingon warrior!"
"My faith gives me strength," rumbled Omek'ti'kallan through gritted teeth as he and K'rev exchanged a flurry of parries and chops. "And I know that Glorious Odo'Ital is my one true God, while you Klingons insist that your God is but a man."
Around the arena, Klingons, Nausicaans, and other Empire personnel cheered, Starfleet people tried to do so while feeling vaguely uncomfortable about supporting blood sports, and Romulans of various factions and political leanings tried to look above it all while secretly enjoying the fight. But in the ring, there was nothing but the two men, their laser focus, and their duel.
"Gods are weak!" snarled K'rev, grunting with effort as he tried to force Omek backwards, bat'leth and kar'takin struggling for dominance between the men's chests. "For did not the first Klingon and his mate kill the gods with their bare hands? Did not the mate of the first Klingon prove herself the mightiest warrior of them all by throwing down the greatest of the gods? What can mere gods do, against the beating of two Klingon hearts?"
"You misunderstand," growled Omek, his breath short as he parried another of K'rev's impressively strong swings. "I say that what you call gods, were not. I say that your Kahless defeated the foul Molor, just as Glorious Odo'Ital defeated the vile Quark when the Criminal One tried to smuggle kemocite. I say that your Kahless brought honor to his people, just as Glorious Odo'Ital brought His Laws to the Founders. I say that your Kahless taught his honor to his followers, just as Glorious Odo'Ital taught His Jem'Hadar the Laws of Odo'Ital, even if he did not call them so himself."
"Your point?" grunted K'rev as he parried a feinting strike from Omek.
"Is not...ah! A good strike! Is not a god...one who does as a god does? Did not your Kahless perform glorious deeds as did Glorious Odo'Ital?"
"Bah!" snarled K'rev, trying for Omek's midsection but hitting the kar'takin's pole. "I understand now. What you call a god, we call our greatest teacher, the example that all Klingons aspire to be! Ha! The only difference....good strike! The only difference between us...a strong block! Now counter--ha! A good fight! The only difference is a matter of mere words!"
"Indeed," rumbled Omek'ti'kallan, forcing the point of his kat'takin into one of the grip-holes in the bat'leth's blade and twisting. K'rev let go, causing Omek to overbalance as the massive blade went flying; the Klingon grabbed the kar'takin by the pole just as his opponent recovered. "And doth not the Laws of Odo'Ital clearly state that all faiths contain truth? Your faith in your emperor, and in the strength of the Klingon heart, is what gives you strength. The reason I shall prevail, though, is that I know that I am already dead, and I can only regain my life by achieving a glorious victory for Odo'Ital!"
"Brave words," snarled K'rev, muscles rippling and sweat pouring from his forehead as he and Omek tried to force the kar'takin's blade towards each other. "But today is a good day to die! And there is no better place to die than with a true warrior by one's side."
"This is true," said Omek'ti'kallan, muscles straining against the massive Klingon's strength. "But I...shall...prevail!"
"I...will...defeat...you!" managed K'rev, pushing back with equal strength.
Then someone's grip slipped, maybe Omek's and maybe K'rev's. The kar'takin's blade slipped sideways as the butt hit K'rev in the leg, the point of the weapon slicing the Jem'Hadar's cheek as the metal-capped butt opened a shallow scratch on the Klingon's thigh, both men falling to the floor from the sudden release.
"Halt!" shouted D'trel, as the onlookers exploded with cheers and noise.
"I have been injured," said Omek'ti'kallan, kneeling and bowing his head. "K'rev son of Korax is victorious."
"What?" growled K'rev, getting up and wiping blood from the cut on his thigh. "No, I was the one who was injured, it would be dishonorable to claim...wait..."
"Oh, joy," said D'trel. She raised her hands and the onlookers gradually quieted.
"Alright, did anyone get the match on a holocamera?"
There was silence, and the sound of shuffling feet from the Starfleet people as they realized that the diplomats--and worse, the reporters--had probably seen this whole thing.
"No? Seriously? Well, then. Since it is impossible to tell who was injured first, I declare this match a draw." She lifted Omek's left arm and K'rev's right into the air, and the crowd started to clap and cheer, a little hesitantly at first at this turn of events, but rapidly building.
"HA!" shouted Councillor Woldan, grinning broadly as he strode into the ring. "A good match! You will have your planet, romuluSngan! K'rev, son of Korax! You have won much glory this day! I believe I have found a captain for the pujbe' yay!"
"Thank you, Councilor," said K'rev with a Klingon salute. "First Omek'ti'kallan, it was my honor to fight you this day. Batlh bIHeghjaj!"
"And it was my honor to be your opponent, as well, K'rev son of Korax," rumbled first Omek'ti'kallan. "I would be honored to fight by your side, should we meet again. Praise Odo'Ital!"
First Omek'ti'kallan knew that he would remember what K'rev son of Korax had said. He would have to tell Glorious Odo'Ital some day; Odo'Ital would likely find the Klingon's words to be very interesting.
Ambassadormolari, I hope that you enjoy!
by the way, what did you give Schmoopie to eat? Jesus...
Thank you, I try.
Um...tinned sardines? The sell-by date said 3/6/63, so I figured they were probably OK.
tinned sardines... Wow. Where do you have that much money from? Poor Schmoopie.
Front and rear.
I'm serious. It sounds epic.
Wait, did that 63 mean 2063 or 1963? Because if it was 1963, well...I can understand.
OK...
*tries to get out of this without looking like a jerk*
I'm going to say that I agree completely, but that I honestly don't think that I can really do such a thing justice.
Unless I just rip off the original Planet of the Apes and have a couple of bat'leth- and disruptor-wielding Klingons beat the tar out of everything. In which case I'd probably just write a few scenes like a montage and have the irritating orangutan get beaten up and forced to admit that not only is he full of it but also that he's just been impaled by a real live alien.
... Well, was forced. That part seems to have gone away at last.
Infinite possibilities have implications that could not be completely understood if you turned this entire universe into a giant supercomputer.
Use either D'Trel and the Tal'Diann or the Patagonia and SI and/or S31, as I have a sneaking suspicion that Three's solution would be to preemptively disembowel the poor TRIBBLE.
— Sabaton, "Great War"
Check out https://unitedfederationofpla.net/s/
Alright, I'll see what I can do...
And no, Three gets creative with S31 spooks. She likes to airlock Franklin Drake, thinks it's funny in the same way Richard, Lord of Darkness thinks killing random innocents and turning their faces into hats is funny.
QUINN: Unit, what in the name of the Forty Hosts of Gaunt happened to that Starfleet Intelligence liaison I assigned you?
THREE: Ummm, training accident.
QUINN: You pulled his intestines out through his ears!
— Sabaton, "Great War"
Check out https://unitedfederationofpla.net/s/
Not sure that's even physically possible...but it's definitely something Three would try to do.
She'd probably put him in a red shirt, beam down to a planet, and kill the guy there and blame it on redshirting, though.
I'm talking disruptors and bat'leths, here.
Oh, I'm fairly sure it isn't. But then again, that's kinda the point.
— Sabaton, "Great War"
Check out https://unitedfederationofpla.net/s/
(The next page is good too, and ties into the most-recently-concluded Non-Player Character side-story strip.)
Cast:
Rahaen'Enriov D'trel: Linda Hamilton circa Terminator 2.
First Omek'ti'kallan: Chiwetel Ejiofor.
Jak: John Barrowman.
"Honey, we'll be a bit longer," I say into the communicator. "D'tan's holding the Admiral back for a little longer in debriefing."
One of Subadmiral t'Thavrau's men walks past, nodding in my direction politely. I return the favor. There is much shouting coming from the room behind me.
"Night-brother's claws," moans my soon-to-be husband. "She actually did pretty well, given that we just dropped her dose! And she held herself back, we took out a whole Tal Shiar fleet, and we got a massive dump of vital intel...what's the problem here?"
"Who knows, Daysnur," I mutter, idly scratching one of my tusks, a bad habit that I need to stop. "They said something about full responsibilities and an intel operative..."
"Oh, man. D'trel has enough problems with the Tal'Diann's methods as it is without a spook hanging around..."
Perhaps I should back up and explain a little, about who I am and how I got here; a Nausicaan in Romulan Republic High Command.
My name's Jak. Mercenary, signed up with the Gorn Hegemony during the last war, in part because my idiot cousin Krugg married a Gorn (they met in a bar, he ran into her while drunk, she ripped his arms off, just like a fairy tale). Got folded into the Klingon Empire when the Hegemony fell; it wasn't that bad, really. For all the horror stories people tell about Klingons, there are perfectly decent ones aplenty to counter the bloodlust ragers.
When the Republic exchange program opened up, I was on leave, getting really sloshed with a couple of my buddies and some House leader's daughter in a bar on Qo'noS. The nightly bar fight has just begun, damn, I remember it like it was yesterday; the Bruisers, our home team, opened with a very good Looking At Me In A Funny Way, worth a whole ten points from the judge. Anyway, it's just getting into action, and I'm sitting here with no greater ambition than to be subbed in as a chair-thrower, when this Romulan woman walks in, an actual sword buckled to her hip, and shoots the ceiling with a disruptor. Then she just walks through the frozen fight, gets up on a table, cool as you please, and says that she needs an engineer. And all I can think of is how much damn guramba it must take to do that. That, or a deathseeker...and either way, working for her has to be better than getting boozed with three Klingons.
I had nothing better to do, and I figured it'd pay well enough, so I pulled out my PDA, got a quick confirmation from the Colonel (lucky I'd already signed up for the exchange program) and raised my hand. D'trel called me and this dark-brown Lethean over and ran through our credentials really fast, then told us where to go and to get to work. She had this great vintage T'liss-class warbird, we ended up refitting the damn thing with more up-to-date armaments three times in our spare time, before she got the Vengeance. Anyway, the Lethean, name of Daysnur, and I ended up hitting it off. After we pulled D'trel out of Hakeev's ship that time her cover was blown and Daysnur had to mind-wipe her, we decided to try for a more serious relationship. Couple of holo-dates, uncountable shifts together, and, well, we're getting married in two months.
D'trel's an interesting commander. Old-fashioned Romulan, she values her image quite a bit, but she believes that people should be honest with their public image; that is, act like they behave in private. It's one of the few things she can't stand about most Vulcans, they frequently aren't genuine.
Anyway. It's 2410, we're being debriefed after that mess that was the Star Empire negotiations (not that that was the Empire's fault, or Praetor Velal's...), and D'trel's probably going to have to deal with a Tal'Diann operative on the ship. Which is going to be tough, because D'trel isn't a fan of black ops, especially after her very short stint infiltrating the Tal Shiar (to be fair, she got roped into it by Command and protested against the idea), which lasted a full four hours and thirty minutes before she snapped, killed fifteen of them with her bare hands, and was promptly kidnapped, sent to Hakeev, and mind-r*ped.
Command was very careful around D'trel for a while after that.
Now, where was I? Oh, yes.
"Well, can't be any worse than last time we tried black ops," I snark.
"Please don't joke about that right now," my fiancee moans again. He's still hung over after drinking himself into a stupor; therapy on D'trel after she had to deal with that Merik jil'kresh wasn't pleasant.
"Sorry, dear."
"S'alright. How did your part go?"
"Probably better than yours. I wasn't involved as much, after all."
"Yeah, lucky you. The First ain't happy, either. He's been doing Klingons calisthenics on the holodeck on setting 11. Safeties off. And he said to be notified immediately when they release the Admiral."
I whistle. "Yeah, he's pissed. Hey, you watching the news?"
"No, why?"
"FNN's running nonstop coverage of the treaty situation. The conservatives are overanalyzing the Admiral now, since apparently t'Thavrau's helmswoman's background and the First's species have been exhausted. Bill Hannity's on with Admiral Janeway, they're talking about the wisdom of putting a mentally-unstable CO in a situation like that."
"Glad you're watching that for me, lover boy; my blood pressure can't take that much blatant stupid in one go."
"Point, that. Hey, I gotta go, the Admiral's coming out."
"OK, see you in a bit. Love you."
"Love you too."
I switch off the communicator, stand, and salute crisply as D'trel approaches.
"At ease," she growls. "Get me Omek, now."
"Yessir." I tap in a quick text on my PDA. Ten seconds later, First Omek'ti'kallan materializes next to me, still panting slightly.
"Admiral," rumbles the massive Jem'Hadar. "What are our orders?"
"We're headed to the Delta Quadrant," says my boss. "I managed to convince Command to not assign me an intel operative."
"How'd you manage that?" I ask.
"Well, after that unfortunate incident with Enarrain Rai--" and I wince as I remember holding my screaming, sword-wielding boss back forcibly, making a huge scene in Jenolan Command; in her defense, it was a bad day all around-- "Raenasa s'Kreh'ddhokh mol'Rihan has seen fit to not assign me an intel-trained operative, at least not directly to the Kholhr. We're to head to Jenolan Command, pick up that turak officer that we dropped off after the incident with Tuvok and those Undine, and get my new fleet."
"Fleet, sir?" asks First Omek'ti'kallan.
"Ten ships. Temer, Virinat, rh'Rhiyrh Ael, Temtactau nnea ch'Rihanh, Valdore, some others. Two Aehlal-class, the new model, four top-of-the-line Ha'apax-class with all the toys, and four Dhelan-class upgraded retrofits, also top-of-the-line and with all the toys. They mean business."
"Where are we headed?" I ask.
"We're supposed to head to the Delta Quadrant to help out with a developing situation there, but D'tan says that Tuvok called in a favor, as well; he wants me to help him with some diplomatic thing. I'm going to set the fleet up with a few scouting patrols while we deal with the diplomacy thing."
"Understood," says First Omek'ti'kallan. "I will ensure that a bunk is prepared for Joh'Kghan."
"You like her, don't you?" I chuckle.
"She understands the Laws of Odo'Ital," says the First without so much as a flicker of response to my teasing. "When we were redeployed and she was left at the Jenolan sphere for those diplomatic meetings, we were still in the middle of a very interesting series of discussions on life and faith. I found her religious beliefs to be most fascinating; if I compile them, it is likely that Glorious Odo'Ital will be pleased with me."
"You're no fun," I complain, but I'm smiling as I do it.
"Quit it, you two," says D'trel absent-mindedly. Her PDA beeps. "Hang on, troop listings for the fleet...Oh, wonderful, so we have two Tal'Diann operatives, one for each of the battlecruisers they gave me..."
"Perhaps I should handle the personnel reports for you?" asks First Omek'ti'kallan.
"No, it's my responsibility. Well, I'll call up these two and give them a run-down of expected behavior under my command. Better set up a fleetwide message, too...Alright. Let's head out. D'trel to Kholhr, three to beam up."
Have I mentioned that it's really fun to work for D'trel?
So I was a bit creative with this prompt, given that D'trel believes that mnhei'sahe demands that she practice what she preach, and used it to flesh out one of the minor characters, give the two eternal boyfriends a Relationship Upgrade that I'll finish in a later story, and explore Omek'ti'kallan a bit more.
Omek's fun because he's devoutly religious, and a member of a religion that explicitly states that all religions contain a bit of truth. I myself am an agnostic atheist*, but I enjoy exploring different religious beliefs for complicated philosophical reasons. Omek and Joh'Kghan are both fun in this regard because the one believes in a testably present deity, and the other is spiritual but not theistic (i.e. believes in a supernatural afterlife-like thing, but does not believe in deities); I figured that given Omek's particular belief system he'd find turak religion fascinating.
Anyway. Starswordc, I hope that you enjoy, and I'm sorry that this is so late.
*I hold that it is only logical that a deity or deities exist in some potential universe, but that due to the untestability of the hypothesis of a deity[ies], I must accept the null hypothesis for this universe, which is that no such being or beings exist in this particular permutation of reality. To deny the fact that a deity or deities must by sheer logical necessity of an infinite multiverse exist in some other permutation of reality, as, say, Richard Dawkins does, is to me just as illogical as, say, creationism--this is part of why I normally don't associate with some parts of the atheist movement, the other part being that Dawkins is an arrogant, sexist jerk. And now a short, humorous, entirely non-"canonical" one-shot.
Three squirmed in her seat. Quinn held his head.
"Unit," he said at last. "I want an explanation for what happened to those three Starfleet Intelligence operatives I assigned as bridge officers for you."
"Training accident, boss," said the unit.
"Training accident?"
"Yes, boss."
"YOU PULLED A MAN'S INTESTINES OUT THROUGH HIS MOUTH, FORCE-FED THEM TO ANOTHER MAN, AND PULLED THEM OUT THE OTHER END!!!!!!!"
"I was teaching them how to survive a Belkar Maneuver. Not my fault they died."
"And the...other one?"
"Well, it's not my fault he died, I genuinely thought that he was a Changeling, so I airlocked him to see what would happen."
Quinn hammered his head against his desk until he lost consciousness.